"Nate, you're job is to tell me if I ever have some streak running down my face, or lipstick all over." Saying this while putting my make-up on in the car, a little trick I use to make sure I never get too-highmaintenence."Oh, no pressure!""Well I figure, if you love me you won't let me look ridculous right? I think that's biblical"

Guys, I am always amazed that a gift of great perfume can make a woman feel beautiful and special every time she puts it on. Personally, since its a gift from my husband its like a compliment in a bottle. And everytime I pick it up I feel great about myself and him.

Yesterday while standing in line to order my favorite fastfood indulgence: a Whoper, gotta love em. Suddenly while taking my order, the eighteen year-oldish kid behind the counter looks up and asks. "Are you wearing Chanel?" Suprised, I nodded looking confused. "It smells SOOOOO good." He gushed complete with eye roll for emphasis. Wow, I guess great taste can be found in surprising places. I have been wearing Chanel, anything by Chanel, since I graduated from college. Before that I discovered that everytime I hugged my good friend and french professor, that I always smelled great. The lingering affect was delightful, and I remember thinking what a great way to be remembered! So my first big splurge when I got my first job was a pair of knee-high leather boots and a bottle of CoCo Channel. Now I never feel dressed w/out it. But I have always enjoyed the fact that the tasteful perfume is not overwhelming. At least I thought, until yesterday? Hmm. In my defense I had JUST put it on, but I do hope someone close to me will tell me if it ever gets to be too much.

New York TimesJanuary 30, 2006Man's Body Found in Room at the Indonesian ConsulateBy ROBERT D. McFADDEN and MARC SANTORAAn Indonesian man stranded in New York for the weekend pending a flight home was found dead yesterday, a knife protruding from his chest and one hand nearly severed at the wrist, in a blood-spattered basement room of the Indonesian Consulate on the Upper East Side, the police said.The consulate, an elegant 19th-century Beaux-Arts mansion off Fifth Avenue that is Indonesia's home in New York for cultural events, cocktail receptions, economic conferences and aid to travelers, was transformed on a quiet Sunday morning into the setting of a locked-door mystery. It appeared to be a homicide, investigators said, though they did not rule out suicide.If it was suicide, the victim — Bambang Wielianto, 35, of Jakarta, the Indonesian capital — would have had to plunge a butcher knife into his chest before or after cutting his left wrist so deeply that his hand was almost severed. At least three knives, including the one in his chest, were found in the room, but no note, the police said.But if it was murder, the motive was murky and the case swirled with Agatha Christie shadows. Mr. Wielianto, who had been put up at the consulate on Friday, was last seen on Saturday when he told a consulate employee that he was homesick and eager to get back to his wife and two children. He had been alone overnight in the four-story mansion, at 5 East 68th Street, except for a security guard and a visiting Indonesian diplomat.Investigators and employees said the diplomat, who was not identified by the authorities, stayed in a top-floor suite Saturday night and flew back yesterday to Los Angeles, where he works. And the security guard, who found the body and called the police just after 9 a.m., was said to have been posted all night at a desk just inside the consulate's locked basement door, about 25 feet from the room where the victim died.The virtually severed hand appeared to be a tantalizing clue. A hard-line Muslim group, the Majelis Mujahedeen Indonesia, began a campaign in Jakarta last month to demand the enforcement of the hudud, the harsh criminal code in the Muslim law called Shariah, which prescribes punishments like the amputation of hands for theft and stoning for adultery.There were no signs of a break-in, investigators said. And under strict procedures of the security-conscious consulate — rules sharpened by terrorist attacks in Bali and other parts of the Indonesian archipelago in recent years — a visitor would have had to phone the guard and ask permission to enter the locked basement door, the only door used overnight.The security guard, identified by fellow employees only as Adi, was one of many consulate workers and officials interviewed by the police yesterday. But there was no immediate word from investigators about what the guard saw or heard Saturday night and yesterday morning — specifically whether anyone was allowed in or went out — and the circumstances surrounding his discovery of the body.The investigation transformed the consulate into a movielike crime scene yesterday, with detectives and Indonesian and State Department officials scurrying in and out, access to the block cut off for hours and stunned employees and members of a regular Sunday dance class turned away by officers and yellow tape. Because the consulate is sovereign Indonesian territory, the police were there by invitation.Jay Suherwanco, on his way to a traditional Balinese dance class at the consulate, was amazed when told that there was a body inside. So was Nyoman Sapta, 42, director of the Gamelan Dharma Swara dance company, which meets there every Sunday for classes. "No one knew him," Mr. Sapta said of the dead man. "On Friday, people were like, 'Who's this guy?' and today he's dead."Residents of the block were less sanguine. "I thought they were filming for an episode of 'Law and Order,' " Michelle Brilliant, who lives next door, said as she emerged with her daughter, Aza Hougie, 3, carrying a Snow White umbrella into the light drizzle of an overcast day.Little was known of Mr. Wielianto. Acup Setia, 45, who has been the consulate chauffeur for 20 years, said that he saw the victim's passport when the man arrived on Friday seeking accommodations, and that a fellow consulate employee had spoken to the visitor and learned that he had a wife and two children in Jakarta and had arrived in the United States on a tourist visa on Dec. 13.It was unclear where Mr. Wielianto had spent the intervening time, but he told the consular worker that he had come to New York from Philadelphia on Friday and needed a room for a couple of days until his departure for home. He said he had a confirmed seat on a Japan Air Lines flight leaving Wednesday, but was wait-listed for a flight departing as early as yesterday.While it is rare for Indonesian nationals to seek accommodations at the consulate, it happens two or three times a year and is not regarded as extraordinary, consular employees said. Diplomats and dignitaries are given suites on the consulate's upper floors, while the occasional traveler in need is given a room in the basement, they said.The room Mr. Wielianto was given is normally used to store the musical instruments of the Gamelan Dharma Swara company, mostly drums, gongs, brasses and other percussion pieces, according to Mr. Sapta, who said he himself moved the instruments out on Friday so that a bed for Mr. Wielianto could be moved in.To reach the room, one enters the basement from the sidewalk down a flight of steps to the right of the portico at the main entrance. Just inside the locked basement door is a large foyer, with the security guard's desk on the right and a reception area with seating for guests on the left. Straight ahead, at the back of the foyer, is a door leading to a hallway.Down that hallway, at the far end, is the consulate kitchen, where, one investigator said, the knives may have come from. On the left side of the hallway, between foyer and kitchen, a door leads into the room given to Mr. Wielianto. Among many unanswered questions in the case is what Mr. Wielianto did after getting the room — whether he went out Saturday or met anyone in or outside the consulate.His body, the police said, was found on the floor of his room, shirtless and face up, the long knife protruding from his chest and his nearly severed left hand dangling loose. At least two other knives were found near the body, and blood streaked and spattered the room. It was unclear if the door had a lock.Signs of normalcy began returning to the consulate late in the day as a long-scheduled reception began upstairs even as detectives worked around the body in the basement. At 5:45 p.m., as guests in evening dress flowed up the portico into a reception given by the Council of Senior Centers and Services to benefit the New York City Conference on Aging, men carried the body out in a bag. An autopsy was set for today, said Ellen Borakove, a spokeswoman for the city medical examiner.A curious feature of the consulate, a 50-foot-wide gray stone manse with bay windows that was built in 1894 by the Boston firm of Peabody & Stearns as a residence for the real estate investor John Emery, is that it is a mirror-image, back-to-back twin of a town house at 8 East 69th Street, built by the same firm in 1892 for Charles S. Colby, the railroad magnate who endowed Colby College in Waterville, Me. There is no known passage between the two structures.Kate Hammer contributed reporting for this article.

Friday, January 27, 2006

Contrary to popular belief our world doesn't revolve completely around babies.For Nate, today is the day that the Duane Arnold Nuclear Powerplant isbeing handed over to its new owners. Do you have any idea how complicated that is?Boggles the mind. We're both just very thankful hedidn't have to worry about his wife going into labor today.

There isn't much that makes me feel more feminethan having pretty feet, or at least my toenails painted.Even though I can't see my feet when I stand up, I still feel better when they look nice.So thanks mom for a little pre-birthday TLC

Monday, January 23, 2006

Life is always exciting when you're living with a pregnant woman.For instance, yesterday morning, I woke up with a little scream and what felt like fire shooting down my right leg. Nate woke up to a screaming thrashing pregnant women trying to find a position that didn't cause pain. Officially entittled Scciattica this is a rather common but never any less painfull experience. I have had hip discomfort throughout my pregnancy but its become even more obvious that our little girl is moving downward. She has taken up residence on top of my hips and is causing all sorts of interesting sensations. Last night Nate got to experience our little girls hiccups it was adorable and they tell me it doesn't bother them.

Thursday morning is typically my morning with the girls. I have an incredible group of women that I meet for coffee and I always look forward to it. As I was getting ready I began to have more and more discomfort in my stomach. When the pain got to bad I would lay down and they would seemingly get much better. A little worried but not wanting to go to the hospital if it wasn't serious I did what any first time pregnant woman would do, I called mom. I also kept trying to go out for coffee, when I was laying down I felt much better. I actually was sitting in the car ready to go when common sense got the best of me. Plus I knew that if I went out to coffee and still felt bad I would have six extremly strong willed women rushing me to the hospital and I was sure that would be more of a fiasco than anything else.

So when I finally gave up I asked Nate to call the nurse. All of this spanned about an hour and it was very obvious to me that they were NOT contractions. The pain was just under my diaphram and much different than the contractions I have been experiencing (once a day nothing to be concerned about) We really are generation Y because it took ten minutes to start the computer and look up the number when it could have taken us 3 to use a phone book. But all is well that ends well. And it did, the nurse was very helpful on the phone and encouraged me that it might just be one of those flukes (I love that a medical person can use the term fluke) and that if it gets better when I lie down thats a good thing. So she presribed and hour of lying on my left side and that I should call back if it didn't get better in an hour.

In the mean time Nate stayed home with me and we watched his first Baby Story, of course in this episode the baby was almost delivered in the car and needed a police escort. Definately was a shocking experience for him.

In the end I think I was just getting a flu bug that was going around, with stomach pains and everything but a HUGE thanks to my prayer group who instantly commited me to prayer. After a day's rest I felt like myself again and am SO thankful I didn't get sick.

This morning I woke up with a start, I realized for the first time that I was now 35 weeks pregnant and that after 37 weeks I could go anytime! Talk about adrenaline rush.

Friday, January 20, 2006

Doxa-Greek for glory coming from the root word dokeo meaning to think or suppose “The true apprehension of God or things. The glory of God must mean His unchanging essence. Giving glory ro Go is ascribing to Him full recognition. . .The glory of God is essentially what He is. God’s glory is the way He makes Himself recognizable.” Beth Moore Breaking Free

In my simplistic understanding, the word glory can be translated “representing God or God’s representation of himself.” Suddenly a huge light bulb turned on in my head and I found myself reading several verses referring to God’s glory as if I had never seen them before.Numbers 20:6 “Moses and Aaron went from the assembly to the entrance of the Tent of Meeting and fell facedown, and the glory of the Lord appeared to them.”Glory= God’s physical manifestation, His essencePsalm 19:1 “The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the works of his hand.”Glory=God’s representation in creation

Hebrews 1:3 “The Son is the radiance of God’s glory and the exact representation of his being, sustaining all things all things by his powerful word. Glory=God’s essence

John 1:14 “The word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. We have seen his glory, the glory of the One and only who came from the Father, full of grace and truth.”Glory=God’s essence, representation.

Then I began to wonder how does the average person glorify God? Its something we hear over and over in the church, and until now I wonder if I fully understood it.

Think about it, on a daily basis who do you represent? When people look at you they associate you with your work, your family, your school, and because of this most of us act in a way that, at the very least, won’t bring shame to those institutions. For example, now that I am the wife of someone I am a little more aware of my actions especially under specific circumstances. Now imagine that you receive a letter stating that the president of the United States has chosen you to be his (or her) ambassador/representative to the United Nations. An incredible feat in and of itself. But since you are just and average person, suddenly this announcement is all over the news, your face is on the cover of every magazine. Everyone knows who you are and (here’s the clincher) everyone knows that you represent the president of the United States. Suddenly how you handle yourself in EVERY situation seems to matter the stakes seem so much higher. How would you ensure that you acted in a way that was pleasing and appropriate to the President? Well first and foremost you would have to know what was important to the President. What he valued and what he wanted to accomplish through you. Right? Not only is it an incredible honor, but also behind this life is an incredible purpose, the type of fulfillment that makes life worth living.

According to Beth Moore God’s glory means two incredible truths: God wants to make Himself recognizable to us God wants to make Himself recognizable through us

By being recognizable to us, we begin to understand who He is, and who we are to Him. The more we understand of him the more we see how we fit into the picture, and possibly what parts of ourselves don’t fit (sin.) And why it is so vital for us to form ourselves to the image of our President. The best part is the that God doesn’t expect us to be perfect or even ashamed of our imperfections, but we need to be willing to let him create the changes in us, freeing us to be His ambassadors. In this way we are free to use all the unique talents, personalities and even weaknesses to do our work, but He has worked in such a way as to get rid of the things that would distract us from doing our job, so that we can better represent Him.

2 Peter 1:3 “His divine power has given us everything we need for life and godliness through our knowledge of him who called us by his own glory and goodness.”

I think often times many of us get through the first part, we want to recognize God, we want to see how important we are to him, we also really like the power at his disposal that works in our lives. Answering prayer to solve problems and create peace or prosperity. That isn’t really the hard part, the hard part comes when we need internal change in order or represent him better. Why is this so scary?Well for a minute think of some of God’s most powerful representativesMother Theresa, Corrie Ten Boom, Martin Luther King, Nate Saint and Jim Elliot.Amazing representatives for God right, but the second thing they have in common is that they have suffered, groaned and been totally transformed. So much so that they have been painfully and powerfully remade to such an extent that they seem to stand out like sore thumbs in our world. Sidenote--I don’t believe that God allows suffering simply to make us better Christians, but he has redeemed the brokenness of our world by using the suffering that breaks. To become something that makes us beautiful.

So I ask you, how do you represent God? Do we realize that daily we’re being groomed to represent the King of Kings? Seems like a full-time job doesn’t it? But how often am I ever that committed to daily bringing God glory?

Recently I have been asking myself what does it mean to live moment by moment as God’s representative? So often I worry first about representing my company, or my husband or church that God seems to fit into the cracks. Is this possible in real life? Good question--I don’t think trying to represent God every minute of every day means that I sit on a mountaintop separated from reality. No, God created me to work with my mind and my hands, to carry responsibility and live with integrity right were he planted me. But now when I set about my day’s priorities I remind myself, I represent God all day every day and its amazing how much more I find myself being aware of the decisions I make, I even feel like I stand up straighter.

2 Corinthians 3:17&18 “Now the Lord is the Spirit and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom. And we, who with unveiled faces all reflect the Lord’s glory are being transformed into his likeness with ever-increasing glory, which comes from the Lord, who is the spirit.”

Friends of ours are planning to adopt from an African family and were seeking wisedom from a family that had adopted four African girls, a major addition to their five biological boys.Obviously this is one very kind hearted family but one of the youngest sons admitted he was concerned about his new sisters."Mom won't everyone know which ones are adopted and which ones are real?""Why is that?" Their white mother inquired delicately."Well, everyone knows that only boys come out of your tummy!"

“Well, I think I am going to have someone from work take me to the hospital.” Nate admits his own nervousness.“Well then who is going to take Sarah Kay?” “I never thought of that. . .”

Kegel exercises. . .enough said.

Learning to sleep with five pillows, or learning to sleep with a women who has five pillows and has to turn over every 45 minutes.

“I think that’s it I’ve got the hospital bag all packed.”“Did you pack anything for the baby?”“I never thought of that”

SK -“I can’t believe we finally got Angel (dog) trained, right before we send her to my mom’s for a while.”Nate-“I'm just glad we can train something.”

“I love you” Nate’s new found declaration of love after wearing an empathy suit for our Lamaze class. It only took half an hour in a suit that simulated being pregnant at 6 months. I tried to talk the teacher into letting us take it home so he could try to sleep in the thing, but his adoration won me over. (He was a great sport—this is a wonderful requirement of our class)

Speaking of Lamaze, I don’t know how much of the techniques I am learning I will really use in labor, but it is so reassuring to meet weekly with 8 other pregnant couples. Of course it’s the first baby for all of us so a majority of the comfort comes from hearing other people ask the same dumb question you’ve been wondering.

I have decided the major reason women eat so much ice cream during pregnancy is because it’s the only thing that soothes the HEARTBURN!

SK: Thank you for not judging me! Nate: Hey, I may not understand it, but if tatter tots and bananas are the only thing that sound good then I am more than happy to oblige. (Didn’t hurt that I had already made dinner and then couldn’t eat any of it—I think we both got what we wanted)

Pregnancy and labor is one of the only times when the more gory or horrific a story is the more compelled people are to tell you all about it.

Tuesday, January 10, 2006

This weekend Nate and I decided to turn a Chicago trip to drop off his little sister at college, into one last pre-baby indulgence. Nate was able to get an incredible rate on a four-star hotel and we planned on exploring the city without a care or purpose. Then my cell phone range somewhere in Old-Town Chicago, a friend of the family was calling about a church member who was stranded at a hospital in Chicago without any support system. As I listened I got those Holy Spirit goose-bumps and kept waiting for the women to say “And then I talked to your mom and she said you were ACTUALLY in CHICAGO.” The more we talked the more it was evident she had no idea where I was, at that moment I knew it was a God thing and not to be ignored. All I needed to know was the name of the hospital, when she called me back I was even more stunned and made her repeat the name of the hospital three times. She kept saying it at the exact same time that I was driving past the hospital, now in Lincoln Park. Thankfully I am married to an incredibly God fearing man who didn’t hesitate when we changed our plans for the day. He has told me several times that he believes God uses me specifically for these situations but now I am beginning to believe him. More importantly than anything I could bring to the situation, I was thrilled that the hospital was within walking distance of my old church and may actually be able to connect all the dots.

There is no dignity in pregnancy and anyone who says differently is trying to sell you something. All the books on natural birth glorify the experience and seem to casually mention what the body is going through, but after a serious study of the TV show The Baby Story, I have concluded one thing. THEY LIE! I don’t think this takes a rocket scientist to notice the fewer the drugs the more of the primordial screams coming from the mother. But I respect anyone who does it.

But back to dignity, the earliest clue to my newly exposed state should have been the first time I had to pee on a stick for the pregnancy test—oh yeah its all down hill from there. Then comes puking in public places (Annika’s produce aisle story scared me to death) but I stayed within the safety of parking lots, kitchen sinks and public restrooms. As if this wasn’t bad enough, every time you go to the doctor they want to bring a “sample” that you’ve prepared ahead of time (my kind of homework)Oh yeah and all the “check-ups” that involve probing in the area the baby will come out of, that just makes us all feel pretty right? And it seems that your body is in on the game. If your like me once you get out of the morning-sickness phase you may feel good for about two-weeks and then you just feel like a blimp, or one of those balloons in the Macy’s day parade. Think I am joking, look at my feet, that’s not normal. To top it off your nose gets big, starts to get stuffed up or leaks constantly, your always running to the bathroom and then hello every time I try to get out of a chair I feel like I swallowed a watermelon At first you break out like a teenager and now I have dry skin like a lizard in the Sahara. And lets not even start on how humiliated I felt when I realized I was pregnant and wouldn’t have a rational emotion for the next nine-months. The thought was so terrifying I started to cry during the middle of a tennis-game between Nate and I, then I got mad and was seriously considering launching my tennis racket at him but opted to run off the court instead. That was way back when, today that seems like small potatoes compared to the view I get sideways in the mirror. I feel more like Tweedle Dee and the distinction between backside and front is disappearing rapidly. I will cut short this tirade about feminine dignity but I haven’t even considered actual labor, and oh yeah like that’s graceful. I think that’s really why God wanted people to be married before they had sex, you really want to know that someone loves you before you get to share in the joys of motherhood.

Don’t get me wrong I can’t WAIT to have a baby and have been blessed with a very healthy pregnancy these are just the comic observations that keep me from taking myself too seriously. But in all seriousness my husband has been wonderful and always seems to be prepared for my state even before I am. Like the other day I literally broke into tears because I didn’t recognize the woman in the mirror and nothing I did would bring her back. I have never really cared if anyone saw me without make-up, or spent much time on my looks, but boy did I miss them when I they were gone. One night as I cried the last of my mascara onto my husband’s clean white shirt, he comforted me and offered such sweet words of wisdom. When I thanked him later, he casually admitted he had just been reading about this phase of pregnancy and was thankful he’d had a little advance warning. Personally, I don’t care where he gets his info I just need someone committed to me during this temporary insanity and am thankful for someone who can love me through it. And thankfully he can also sleep through most of my tossing and turning at night. I think there is a reason the God had hippo’s live in water!

Tuesday, January 03, 2006

“Are you having any contractions yet?” The doctor’s question hung in the air this morning and got both our attention. The good news is baby is fine and I am having a relatively boring pregnancy. Our little girl can give some intense heartburn, and bless her heart she keeps kicking my ribs out of place alternating left and right (which is tough on the back and breathing ) She is a lively little one. All the things Nate and I planned on doing after the holiday, well that time is now and it has never seemed so real. So at this point, we have miles to go before we sleep. I keep thinking, breathe, breathe, one step at a time.“So how are you feeling?” Nate asked me cautiously as we left the OB.“Do you remember that first day of class, what did we call it, Syllabus Shock, its all hit me at once how much we have to do.”“No, this reminds me of the first time as a freshman, when you look at all the requirements for graduation and think-- this is going to take a miracle”